When you get angry, I used to think I did something wrong. Then I started to look deeper.
I know you’re angry because you’re overwhelmed, it’s ok, so am I.
I know you yell sometimes because you don’t know how to tell me you’re scared, it’s ok, so am I.
I know when I ask you what’s wrong, I get a different answer every time because you have trouble sorting through what you’re feeling, I’m trying to understand, because so am I.
I know that little things set you off, way quicker than they usually do. I try to understand it’s because you feel helpless like I do.
Through all of this, you still manage to smile when I really need it.
You never push me away when I ask you to hold me so I can fall apart, because finally no one else is looking. You always tell me it’s going to be ok.
I lean on you more than I’ve ever leaned on anyone, besides family. It’s a lot of weight.
So, I try to remember that this is hard on you too. And when you’re angry, it’s not at me, it’s at the situation that we can’t control, and the unknown that’s a little scary.
You give me hope, and I know if you could change this, you would. I love your strength.
Next time you get angry, instead of taking it personal, I’ll remember you’re not fighting with me, you’re fighting circumstances, and that sometimes it’s my turn to just hold you and tell you everything will be ok.